Plot Twists Romance Short Stories & Scumbag Awakening Novels

Olivia Hall was 18 when her parents died in a bloody gang war. Henry West, the city's most powerful crime boss, took her captive and forced her into a relationship. He kept her at his side, never letting her leave. Olivia fought him every step of the way, willing to risk her life rather than give in. But no matter how much she hated him or how hard she pushed him away, Henry lavished her with affection and made sure no one could hurt her. Over time, his relentless devotion wore down her defenses. Against her better judgment, Olivia fell in love with him. Everyone said she was Henry's greatest strength and the one weakness that could destroy him. The day Olivia agreed to marry him, Henry wiped out half the city's criminal world to make sure no one left could threaten her. Then he announced he was retiring. "Olivia, you're the only woman I'll ever love. There'll never be anyone else. I promise." Years later, Olivia discovered that Henry was secretly looking after another woman, someone he treated like she was too precious for the world to touch. "Olivia, I still love you more than anyone, but Grace is sweet and innocent. She reminds me of you when we first met, and I can't just walk away from her. Once this is over, I'll make it up to you. I swear." Olivia wasn't going to give him another chance. He had ruined what they had, and she had no interest in holding on to what was left. She burned every keepsake from their relationship and boarded a flight overseas, determined to leave Henry behind for good.

House Ashbourne had a rule for marrying off its daughters: a suitor had to shoot down the ceremonial orb hung high in the family chapel, blindfolded, before he could come to claim his bride. I'd been foretold at birth to become queen. My parents didn't want me to suffer in the palace, so they promised me as a child to the heir of House Hawthorne. But Cedric Hawthorne, an archer who never missed and was hailed as the army's rising star, failed to hit the orb for five straight years after I came of age. I went from the most envied girl in the capital to its laughingstock. When word reached the palace, the Crown Prince came to our house himself and said he'd like to try. I hurried to my father's study, only to hear Cedric's voice, low and hushed. "Next month Rosamund leaves to marry far away in the south. I don't want to spend the little time we have left as nothing more than her sister's fiance." My sister threw herself into his arms, her voice thick with tears. "If only you weren't Evelina's fiance." Even my parents, who'd always doted on me, sighed and went along with it. "He's already missed five times. What's the harm in making Evelina wait one more year?" My heart lurched as it finally hit me: every hurt I'd suffered these five years had come from the people closest to me. Fighting back the sting of tears, I turned to the man who'd followed me there. "Then, Your Highness, I'd ask you to come to the family chapel and try."

Moments after leading his team to win the Cup, my superstar hockey boyfriend, Grayson, announced an indefinite leave of absence on live TV. Twitter exploded instantly. The team's group chat was in absolute chaos. The captain sent a dozen furious voice memos, chewing Grayson out for treating the team's blood, sweat, and tears like a cheap joke just for some girl. Yet, in stark contrast to his teammates' blinding rage, Grayson's private PR team chat was celebrating. "Let's see how Blair, his glorified babysitter, cleans up this mess." "She spent ten years busting her ass for his career, and Grayson just drops it all for Cici. True devotion." A new junior assistant chimed in quietly: "But if he quits, don't we lose our jobs? I heard the captain just smashed a locker in rage..." Grayson's childhood friend and personal trainer sent a smirking emoji: "You're new. Blair is a top agent who's willingly played our nanny for a decade. No matter what Grayson does, she bails him out. She'll just go groveling to the sponsors and vets as usual." "Bet Blair is smashing her phone in a rage right now, hahaha." Amidst the rapid-fire texts, a voice memo suddenly popped up. It was Grayson's lazy, breathless voice. There was the sound of a party in the background: "Shut up, all of you. I'm busy. You guys are too loud." The group got even more riled up and started to egg Grayson on. "Cici adores you. Just kick Blair and her controlling vibe to the curb. She's thirty now anyway. Probably going deaf and blind in her old age." The chat erupted in laughter. I stared blankly at the screen. I logged directly into the agency's official Twitter account, typed up a statement, and hit send. "Our agency respects Grayson's decision to take an indefinite leave of absence. " "To compensate our brand partners, we are opening a dedicated refund portal today. We will unconditionally refund all prepaid endorsement and cancellation fees incurred during his leave."

It was common knowledge that the Marsh family was the family with the strictest household rules in upper-class society. They adhered to the rules unyieldingly, and there were so many of them that the rulebook was thicker than ten legal codices. One of the rules was: If any woman wanted a divorce, she had to roll on a bed of nails for half an hour before she was allowed to leave. In the past, Violet Stane insisted on marrying River Marsh and never thought about getting a divorce. After all, she had spent ten years pursuing this aloof ice prince. Once she married him, she gave up on her flourishing career, stopped being so aggressive, obeyed the ridiculous number of house rules, and became the perfect wife for River. But she no longer wanted to do that.

I was secretly married to Conrad, our company's CEO, for three years. When a photo of us walking out of a house together in the morning was leaked, I called 911 right in front of all the employees. "Officer, the CEO of this company raped me!" I did this because in my previous life, he had sworn to me: "The company is at a critical funding stage. The investors value my image as a highly eligible bachelor. To get this multimillion-dollar lifeline, we just have to compromise a little and hide our relationship from the public." I was soft-hearted back then. I thought the pressure of managing the company was too much for him, so I agreed. But what I got in return was his young assistant, Ivy, spreading rumors that I was a vain, money-hungry woman who had seduced my boss for his fortune. Then she launched a massive online smear campaign, painting me as a shameless opportunist and turning the entire office against me. In the end, I was pushed to the breaking point. Targeted as a toxic gold digger, I was intentionally run over and killed by a crazed hater. Ironically, after my death, Conrad refused to press charges against the online mob. Then he easily slipped a wedding ring onto Ivy's finger. Now, opening my eyes again, I found myself back on the morning we were secretly photographed leaving the house together.

On our third wedding anniversary, Kent gave me a gift. A black metal wristband. Cold. Sleek. He called it a new product from his company—a pain-sharing system. The other user was Violet. His "girl bro." The person he was closer to than his own sister. Kent brushed a hand over my cheek, his gaze soft. "Clara, you're too coddled. You should learn from Violet. She's tough." Then he snapped the wristband onto my wrist. So while Violet got a full-back tattoo and an entire sleeve, I felt every single needle. When Violet went wingsuit flying, I collapsed at home. Every bone in my body felt shattered. I threw up blood. While she soaked up attention online as the "extreme sports queen," I was drowning in nonstop pain. Kent sat beside me, holding my hand as he cared. "Just hang in there. Violet's just being herself. As my wife, you should be more understanding." To finally push me over the edge, Violet decided to livestream herself jumping into the ocean to make me die in her place. Their friends couldn't wait to watch. Later, I watched calmly from a hospital room as the system slowly drained the life out of her. Kent looked deranged as he demanded to know why I wasn't dead. Because I had already reversed the system. All her vitality had become the nourishment that sustained me.

I had been dating Sean Barnes for three years, and during all that time, I never once asked him to dine at a fancy restaurant. He kept a strictly balanced ledger for all our romantic spendings. If a meal crossed the budget, he would go out of his way to earn back the extra amount. Before heading off to work, he would always plant a kiss on me. “Gotta save up for that wedding, baby.” While away on those business trips, he never failed to report every detail of his itinerary, so I never once doubted him. One night before Thanksgiving, Sean claimed the cost of the gifts he got for my parents had gone way over budget, prompting yet another trip out of town. “You wouldn’t want our wedding date to keep getting pushed back time and again, would you? I’ll be back on Thanksgiving. You have my word.” Gazing at the exhaustion in his eyes, my heart softened, and I yielded. Came Thanksgiving Day, and my parents and I waited in vain late into the night, while Sean’s phone rang on without being picked up. Faced with the worried looks in my parents’ eyes, I forced a smile, then drove through the night to the place where Sean was supposed to be working out of town. When I arrived at the hotel, however, I found him holding a wedding ceremony with my best friend, Michelle Hudson. They were kissing amidst the loud cheers of the crowd. At that exact moment, a message popped up on my phone from Sean. “Sorry babe, just wrapped up with the emergency surgery.” Watching Sean put away his phone on stage with a face full of tenderness, I dialed the number of my friend, the CEO of an entertainment agency. “How much for a trending hashtag? I want the whole world to know about a certain wedding.”

She'd loved him for four years. But just before their wedding, she was forced to pretend she'd betrayed him, leaving him no choice but to let her go. When he found out she'd cheated on him, he flew into a rage and made her life a living hell. “Summer Blake, you should be grateful I haven't killed you.” It wasn't until much later that he realized just how empty his world had become without her.

For ten years, I was the messenger between Gabriel Moretti and my sister, Vivian. Every time he and Vivian fought, he trashed the whole studio. As the kid sister who tagged along, I was the one running around the neighborhood at midnight for bandages and hangover pills. They couldn't stand each other's stubbornness. And yet, whenever the mood struck, they kissed like they never wanted to stop. Then, no matter what he did to stop her, my sister got on a plane to California for grad school. Gabriel caught me outside the airport security checkpoint. His eyes were red as he gripped my chin. "She thinks she's the only one who gets to walk away from me? Vera, I know you've been in love with me for years. We're going to City Hall." It was how he got back at my sister. For me, it was a pit I couldn't climb out of. In three years of marriage, he never once held my hand in public. But late every night, he pressed me down into the bed in the master suite and wouldn't let me go. I thought he'd finally accepted me as his wife. Then, last night, my sister posted a boarding pass on Instagram. Gabriel told me to move out of my own home that same night. "Gabriel, I'm your wife." He looked at me like I'd said something ridiculous and gave a thin smile. "You know better than anyone why we got married. Greed doesn't suit you, Vera." I didn't say a word. I just took the unopened box and, right in front of him, dropped it in the trash by the door. "You're right." I smiled at him. "I'm done being greedy." What Gabriel didn't know was that just this morning, I'd signed up for an exchange program in Switzerland. By next week, that little tagalong who did nothing but carry messages would be gone from this city.

Victoria Blackwood was a completely different person after being reborn. She no longer woke up before sunrise to make breakfast for Sebastian Blackwood and deliver it to his military unit so he could enjoy a home-cooked meal. She no longer picked up their son from daycare every evening, holding his little hand as he excitedly told her about the new songs he had learned that day. Even after their son, Ethan Blackwood, was injured in a car accident and rushed to the hospital, Victoria ignored Sebastian's repeated calls. It wasn't until his 38th call that she finally answered, taking her time as if nothing were wrong. Sebastian's voice was filled with worry, but he was clearly holding back his anger. "Do you even know Ethan was in a car accident?" Victoria held the phone to her ear while looking over the documents in front of her. She replied calmly, "I know. Haven't you already called me dozens of times?"

Five years after their breakup, Lauren Scott signed a master-servant contract with Yale Sutton, the ex-boyfriend who had been penniless when they were together. Yale would pay off her debts, and in return, Lauren had to fulfill his every demand. "Lauren, take off one piece of clothing, and I'll knock a million off your debt." Yale spoke slowly, his voice dripping with mockery. Around the private room, the men hooted and cheered while the women laughed and made teasing remarks. Lauren gritted her teeth. "Fine. Just don't go back on your word, Mr. Sutton." Without a moment's hesitation, she unbuttoned her blouse and let it fall to the floor, baring her porcelain-white skin and most of her full, rounded breasts. The room fell silent for a moment before whistles erupted from every direction.

On the day I sold my house, my best friend asked me. “Aren’t you getting married soon? Why are you selling your new home?” I signed the transfer agreement and replied, “Because I’m breaking up with him.” We were supposed to buy a particular couch for our new home. Caleb Graham said he had not managed to snag it yet, so he asked me to wait a little longer. Then, I saw that very couch in Claire Silva’s Stories. She had specifically tagged Caleb. [It’s the one I’ve been waiting for so long! He still knows me so well!] In the comments section, Caleb simply replied, [Don’t mention it.] That was followed by a bunch of trivial chatter between the two of them. I stared at that Stories post for a long time. Then, I canceled the order for the matching pajamas. I scrolled back through my order history. I had ordered over a hundred packages. They were all for furnishing our new home. At first, Caleb would enthusiastically pick things out with me. Later on, he did not even bother to reply to my messages. It was because Claire, his first love, had gotten divorced. His attention toward me and our new home had shifted elsewhere. “If a buyer contacts us, I’ll let you know right away.” The real estate agent slid his business card across the table. I reached out to take it. Then, I cast one last glance at this place. ‘Caleb, I admit that I regret it,’ I thought. Seven years had passed, and I no longer wanted to build a home with him.

Five years ago, I threw Jase Prescott out of my mansion like a dog. Five years later, he'd become a renowned professor, while I'd been told my illness was incurable. He swirled the red wine in his glass, his gaze icy. "Why aren't you out making the big bucks, Audrey? What made you switch careers and start drinking with men for money?" Bitterness rose in my throat. I forced a smile. "Can't be helped. I'm buried in debt. Jase, would you be generous enough to lend me a hundred thousand?" He splashed the red wine across my face. "Same old story." His voice was as sharp as a blade. "You're still rotten with greed." Looking at the way he hated me to the core, I finally breathed a sigh of relief. Thank God. He had no idea that the heart beating in his chest was mine.

In my previous life, Timothy Yance's female best friend, Selina Sunther, provoked me during my and Timothy's anniversary dinner. "Rosalie, Timothy got super drunk two days ago, and I was the one who helped him change his underwear. But we're really close buddies, so don't think too much about it." I completely lost my composure at that time, resulting in me hurling my wedding ring away and tearing the marriage certificate into pieces. Later on, I gave up on all of our joint assets just so I could stay away from the shameless pair. In the end, I died in a rehabilitation center located in another country. No one bothered to reach out to me at all. After I got buried, Timothy and Selina worked together to build their business empire. Everyone sang praises about their ethereal love for each other. While people were envious of them for being such a perfect couple, they showed nothing but disdain and mockery toward me when I was mentioned. "Timothy's ex-wife never knew how to appreciate him. No wonder she wasn't worthy of him." When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the night of the anniversary dinner. This time, I just smile serenely at Selina instead of breaking down. Then, I turn to link arms with my male best friend, Calvin Solt, whom I've specifically invited to dinner. I even rest my cheek on his chest. Timothy's expression changes drastically, whereas Selina's smile freezes on her face. Calvin merely smiles faintly before he raises his glass to Timothy as a toast. "Don't misunderstand our relationship, Timothy. Rosalie and I have known each other for 20 years, so we're used to taking care of each other. "Heck, I was also the one taking care of Rosalie the whole time on our first night together, be it in bed or the aftercare."